Starting from Scratch

by Marie Ferrarella

  She pressed her lips together to keep back the sob that was choking her. After a moment, she continued, “I’ll tell you a secret, Henry. One I never told you before. When you were born, I tried to get Mom to take you back.” She could hardly see. Tears were swimming in her eyes, refracting the light. Distorting everything. She brushed them aside so that she could see her brother. So that she could see him still breathing. “I wanted a dog. Or at least a sister, not some dumb brother.”

  He tried his best to smile. “I…know…Mom…told me.”

  “Well, I changed my mind, Henry,” she told him fiercely. “I don’t want a dog or a sister. I want you.” And she was losing him, she thought. “Please, Henry.”

  “If…I…could stay…I…would.”

  That’s all she needed. For him to will himself to remain in this life. “You can. You can. You just have to try harder. Please. Try harder. You’ve got to try harder, Henry.”

  But each breath that he took sounded thinner, more shallow than the last. Elisha just held on to his hand more tightly.

  “Henry,” she whispered, afraid that if she tried to speak in a normal voice, it would break completely apart. “Henry, I love you.”

  She saw his lips moving, but there was no sound.

  Elisha leaned in closer. “What? What is it, Henry? I can’t hear you.”

  “I…love…you…too.”

  She felt his breath on her cheek.

  And then nothing.

  Raising her head to look at him, Elisha saw that her brother’s chest had stopped moving.

  The barely wavy colorful lines on the monitor beside his bed gradually flattened out. A mournful, droning filled the air around her.

  “Henry! Henry, come back. Please come back!”

  But there was no response. As she knew there wouldn’t be.

  Elisha’s eyes filled with tears, instantly overflowing. She touched her fingertips to her cheek, trying to press in the breath she’d felt there. Trying to preserve the last bit of her brother that she had.

  “Say hi to Mom and Dad for me,” she whispered before her voice broke.

  CHAPTER 21

  “Code Blue! Code Blue!”

  A disembodied voice shouted the call to action somewhere in the vicinity as an alarm sounded the moment that all four of the wavy lines on the monitor beside Henry’s bed became linear. Within the next minute, the small enclosure exploded with activity as hospital staff came rushing in, determined to wrestle back another soul from death’s grasp.

  The crash cart bumped against Elisha’s hip as a nurse angled to get it into position for the attending physician.

  Like someone standing on the sidelines, watching a nightmare unfold, Elisha began to back away. The fight before her was a futile one. She knew that in her soul. Everything was going on around her in a blur of sounds and colors, none of it making any sense.

  Her brain was numb. Her body was numb.

  Henry was gone.

  And then suddenly, behind her, she heard a small, high-pitched wail, “Daddy!’

  Beth’s cry halted Elisha’s headlong spiral into a bottomless abyss of despair. There wasn’t just herself to think of. She couldn’t give in to the destructive clawings of grief.

  Turning around, she saw that both Andrea and Beth were being ushered in by a distressed-looking Asian woman she vaguely recognized as someone who knew Henry. But no name came to her.

  Andrea was holding tightly on to Beth’s hand to keep the little girl from pushing through the ring of blue-uniformed people and flinging herself onto her father’s bed. Elisha recognized the look on the older girl’s face. Andrea was as numb as she was, as disbelieving in what had transpired.

  They were both waiting, Elisha thought, for a commercial break to be announced, after which programming would resume as usual and life would return to its normal boundaries. Boundaries within which Henry was still among the living.

  Sobs racking her small body, Beth shifted her deep blue eyes to her, as if she expected her to make everything all right. As if she had the power. “Aunt Elisha?”

  For a split second, Elisha couldn’t move. Couldn’t offer any words of consolation.

  You’re not alone, Lise. You’ve got nieces to take care of. Henry’s girls. They need someone to lean on. It’s up to you to be that someone.

  And who did she have to lean on? she wanted to cry. Who?

  The answer was as self-evident as the emptiness that was still tugging for possession of her soul.

  No one.

  The lump in her throat still made it impossible for her to speak. But she could act. Elisha opened her arms to her nieces.

  Without hesitation, both girls flung themselves into the embrace.

  “Is he…?” Andrea couldn’t bring herself to finish the statement.

  Elisha knew exactly how the girl felt. She bypassed the word that neither one of them wanted to hear. The word she couldn’t say. Not yet. Instead, in Henry’s honor, she focused on the one positive aspect in the otherwise horrible event.

  “He’s not suffering anymore.”

  “But we are,” Beth sobbed, her small fingers clutching on to her raincoat as she clung to her waist. Her tears dampened the material.

  Henry, think like Henry, Elisha schooled herself. “He wouldn’t want us to.”

  Beth raised her head, her soft cheeks wet with tears. “Then why did Daddy go? Why did he leave Andie and me?”

  “He didn’t want to, honey. He didn’t want to, but he didn’t have a choice.” Elisha dropped down on her knees beside the child she was trying to comfort even as her own heart was breaking. Even as her own heart selfishly asked the same questions. “And all of him didn’t leave, Beth. He’s still here.”

  Wiping her face with the back of her hand, Beth blinked, confused. The father she adored was still lying prone on the hospital bed, despite the actions of the people around him. “Where?”

  “Here. In your heart.” Elisha lightly tapped the little girl’s chest. “And in here.” Her fingers brushed against Beth’s temple. “Your daddy will always live on there.”

  Beth shook her head. It wasn’t enough. “But I want to see him. Talk to him. Go for a walk with him and have him hold my hand.”

  So do I, baby. So do I.

  “Just close your eyes, Beth.” She had no idea how she was saying this, how she managed to push one word out after another and not have it sound like babble. “Whenever you want to see your daddy, just close your eyes and you’ll be able to picture him. He’s never going to leave you,” she told the little girl with feeling. “A piece of your father will always be inside of you and inside of Andrea.” She glanced up toward the older girl. Tears were sliding down Andrea’s face. “And he’ll always be watching over both of you. Because that’s the kind of man your daddy was.”

  Behind her, activity around Henry’s bed had halted. The nurses wilted away in defeat. The physician set down the paddles that had failed to restore a rhythm to his heart. His expression was perfectly stoic as he looked at the young intern beside him. “Call it.”

  The latter looked at the clock on the wall directly behind the bed. There was a note of distress as he said, “Three-eighteen.”

  Three-eighteen.

  From somewhere in her head, a voice arose, much like the voice of a media commentator delivering an endless stream of news: At three-eighteen the world lost a good person it could ill afford to lose. Henry Reed. We’ll not see his like again.

  Trembling inside, Elisha rose to her feet again. She put her arms around Beth, holding the little girl to her.

  Her eyes met those of the woman who had ushered in the girls. There were tears in her eyes. She was clearly distressed over Henry’s passing. Welcome to the club, Elisha thought, her arms tightening around Beth who had begun to sob again.

  “I just took the girls to get the something to eat. He told me I should. Henry,” she added in a disoriented voice, in case there was any question as to whom she was referring. “I didn’t
know…” The woman’s voice trailed off as she looked at her helplessly.

  “You couldn’t have known,” Elisha replied, trying to absolve her of any feelings of guilt. Henry knew he was dying, would die in the next few minutes. That’s why he sent the girls away. He didn’t want them to see that. She took a breath, trying to steady a voice that kept wanting to crack. “I’m sorry,” she apologized. “I can’t seem to remember your name.”

  A slight smile quirked the woman’s small mouth, indicating she understood. At a time like this, nothing made sense and names of acquaintances were lost in the shuffle. Words gushed out in an effort to make the introduction and subsequent explanation as short as possible.

  “I’m Anne Nguyen. I live next door to Henry and the girls. Andrea came to me when Henry collapsed. When the paramedics arrived, they would only let Andrea accompany Henry to the hospital. They said that Beth was too young to ride along, too. Something about violating the rules, so I took Beth and followed the ambulance to the hospital.”

  As she spoke, Anne looked toward the bed. They all did.

  Henry seemed serene. Almost as if he was just sleeping instead of breaking three hearts and leaving behind a hole that could never be filled. An orderly was taking away the crash cart. There were other patients to treat, other patients to stand vigil over, poised to go into action. Henry didn’t need it anymore.

  “I didn’t even know Henry was sick,” Anne confessed to her.

  “Henry never liked to talk about himself,” Elisha murmured. Her mouth curved in a fond, sad smile as she thought of her brother. “Said he didn’t want to bore people.”

  The physician turned from Henry’s bed and looked from one woman to the other, obviously trying to address someone about the man he had failed to revive. After a beat, he crossed to Elisha.

  “Are you Mrs. Reed?” he asked Elisha.

  “Ms.,” she corrected. “I’m his sister. Henry’s wife died five years ago.” Still holding Beth to her, she placed her other arm around Andrea’s shoulders. They were rigid, she noted. As if the girl was holding everything in by sheer willpower and if she bent, even a little, she’d shatter. I know how you feel, Andie. “These are his daughters, Beth and Andrea.”

  The physician frowned ever so slightly, as if this was more information than he wanted. As if this would make everything more personal than he intended it to be.

  “I’m very sorry for your loss, Ms. Reed.” He looked somewhat ill at ease with the situation, avoiding eye contact with the girls. “The nurse will be here to help you with the arrangements.”

  “Arrangements?” Elisha echoed. What was he talking about? Right now, it was all she could handle just to remember to breathe in and out.

  His voice softened. “To have your brother’s body removed.”

  “For the funeral,” Anne prompted from behind her when she said nothing.

  Funeral. Henry’s funeral. She hadn’t even thought that far ahead.

  Because she never wanted this day to get here.

  She nodded woodenly. “Right. The funeral. I, um…” She tried to think, to remember where Rachel was buried. Henry had handled all the details for Rachel’s funeral and burial. Grieving, he had still managed to take care of everything. Because he had to.

  And now it was her turn. Her “had to.” There wasn’t anyone else to do it. She certainly couldn’t hand over the responsibility to Andrea. Aside from being cowardly, it wouldn’t have been fair.

  She cleared her throat, then nodded. “Of course. Thank you. I’ll speak with her.”

  “Fine.” The doctor was already standing in the doorway. He nodded his head quickly, taking his leave. His eyes drifted over to the bed, then retreated and focused on her face. “Again, I’m sorry for your loss.”

  Elisha could feel her chest constricting, could literally feel her heart aching.

  Not nearly as sorry as I am, Doctor.

  CHAPTER 22

  Looking back later, Elisha could only describe the hours after Henry’s death as sheer hell.

  In an effort for self-preservation, she disassociated herself from what she was doing. She was vaguely aware of watching even as she was doing. Aware of standing on the sidelines, watching herself as she somehow managed to go through the paces, going from point A to point B as she set about getting things organized.

  The pain was endless.

  With Beth clinging to her and Andrea moving like a shell-shocked soldier beside her, Elisha followed the ICU nurse to the tiny office designated to the Social Services Department. It was restricted to just one person, Jennifer Mendoza.

  Jennifer found chairs for all three of them and encouraged them to sit. She had a soft, comforting voice and kind eyes. Information about Henry, his time of death as well as his home address, was already on her computer screen. She’d pulled it up the second the ICU nurse had given her Henry’s name.

  Within minutes, Jennifer helped her get in contact with a respected mortuary on Long Island located close to the cemetery where Rachel had been buried. Elisha had remembered that Henry had reserved the space beside his wife the same time he had made arrangements for her funeral.

  That was Henry, Elisha thought. Always prepared. For everything but this.

  “Are you sure you’ll be all right?” Jennifer asked as Elisha rose to her feet. Elisha had given her best trouper smile. The woman seemed to see right through her. “Here’s my card.” She plucked a white business card embossed with several numbers. “Call me if you need to talk.”

  Elisha remembered pocketing the card as she walked out. She didn’t remember which pocket. Didn’t really remember the ride to Henry’s house that followed, only that Beth had leaned against her, crying again. Anne had insisted on remaining with them while Elisha talked to the woman at social services and then drove all of them home.

  “I’ll stay with the girls while you make arrangements for the funeral service,” Anne volunteered as she pulled up in the driveway.

  The house looked dark. She fully expected to see Henry throwing open the door, calling out a greeting. But the door remained closed.

  “Do you have a license?”

  She realized that Anne was asking her something. “Excuse me?”

  “A driver’s license,” Anne clarified. “Do you have one?”

  “Yes, but I don’t have a car. I can get around faster on foot in the city.” She helped Beth out of the car. It suddenly occurred to her that she had no idea why the woman was asking her that. “Why?”

  “You can take mine. To go to the church,” Anne prompted when Elisha said nothing. “To make arrangements for the funeral service.”

  This is your department, not mine, Henry, Elisha thought. When their parents had died, Henry had been the one who had stepped up to the plate and handled all the arrangements. Because she just couldn’t. She’d always been a whiz at multitasking. She’d been doing it ever since she could remember, but handling death and everything that went with it was something she just couldn’t make herself face.

  Gotta do it now, Lise. No way out.

  “Thank you.” Elisha took the keys that Anne offered. “I’ll be back as soon as I can, girls,” she promised. Bracing herself, she drove to the church where Henry and Rachel had gotten married. The church where final words had been said over Rachel’s coffin and now, they would soon be said over Henry’s.

  Fresh tears sprang to her eyes as she made her way down the street.

  The pastor at the church that Henry and the girls attended on Sundays was very upset to hear about her brother’s passing. He offered Elisha tea and sympathy. She passed on the first, dutifully listened to the second even though it didn’t help. To her relief, arrangements for Henry’s funeral services were made quickly and simply.

  Walking her to her car, the pastor repeated the words that the woman from social services had uttered. “Call me if you need anything.”

  I need Henry back. What can you do about that?

  But she managed to smile as she accept
ed the card that he had pulled out of his pocket. “Thank you, you’ve been very kind.”

  “My Boss expects it,” he replied as he closed the car door.

  She didn’t remember the drive back to Henry’s house. Only that it was lonely. Drained, she walked into the house, setting the car keys down on the table in the foyer. All she wanted to do was slip into a coma. But there were still more things to do. A line from Frost drifted through her brain.

  And miles to go before I sleep.

  She looked at Andrea. “Did your dad keep an address book?”

  The response was monotone, as if the personality that had been Andrea Reed had been completely drained out of her. “On the computer, why?”

  “I have to notify his friends.” Now, there’s a ghoulish task. Hello, I’m calling about your friend Henry Reed. He’s dead.

  “They’ll want to come to the funeral.”

  Andrea frowned, then shrugged carelessly, as if it made no difference to her if anyone came to the service or not. “Whatever.”

  Alarms went off in Elisha’s head. Like all teenagers, Andrea had her ups and downs, but this was more than a step beyond that. “Andrea, do you want to talk?”

  Something dark and moody flared in the girl’s brilliant blue eyes. “No.” Her lips pressed down firmly, forming a barrier, locking away any communication.

  Elisha tried anyway. “Honey, this was a terrible thing that happened. We’re all hurting right now and it’s going to take time for things to settle in—”

  “Are we going to have to go to an orphanage?” Beth was suddenly in front of her, clutching at her imploringly. Elisha looked down at a trembling lower lip.

  The only nodding acquaintance Beth had with the term orphanage had arisen out of watching a stage production of Annie last year. The girls in the play had been forced to work hard. That was probably the image that was replaying itself in Beth’s head now, Elisha realized.